


Bring Your Hammer (Leave Your Gun)

by musicmillennia



Series: A Thousand Battles, A Thousand Victories [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Harley Quinn is Awesome, Hurt/Comfort, Mick Gets Off the Ship, Multi, Past Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, but y'all already knew that, talk of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: Mick talks to a therapist―the best one he knows.





	Bring Your Hammer (Leave Your Gun)

**Author's Note:**

> This just wouldn't leave me alone, so here have a thing :D

"Heya, Hot Stuff!"

Mick's not gonna bother sugar coating it. "I'm under the floor on a time ship. There's a gun in my hand."

There's barely a pause before Harley Quinn's chirping, "Well, you just earned yourself a free consultation! You got Face Time on that little phone 'a yours?"

"Yeah. Snart made me upgrade." The gun warms in his hand.

"Great! I'll just switch us on over and you can tell me all about it, sweet cheeks."

Mick takes the phone from his ear. When the call pops up, he hits the green button. Harley's big smile greets him.

"Now why don't you show me that gun slidin' off to the races?" she says, somehow managing to sound professional even through her easy tone. 

Mick tilts the phone. In plain view, he pushes the Glock far away from him.

"Good work! So what do I gotta know, doll face?"

It's a bit slow at first. Mick hadn't planned on doin' this. Funny enough, it'd been Felicity texting him a stupid picture of a cat holding a bow and arrow. Oliver replies with a simple  _Felicity,_ and Mick's fumbling for the one good therapist he knows. But eventually it all spills out, starting from Len's death. He says the team's a little frustrating sometimes, but it's really his partner's death that's hittin' him hard, y'know? And once he boards that train, there's no getting off the track, and he just talks and talks, more than he's done in the past year and change.

Harley tilts her head this way and that, and though her smile's dimmed to an unassuming close-lipped one, Mick can tell she's cataloging every word inside that big brain of hers. She never writes anything down until her patient's outta sight, unless it's requested. Most criminals don't like it when someone writes their issues, and that's her whole clientele. No normal citizen or hero knows it, but she's still practicing, and she's damn good at it. ('Cept for that one fluke, but nobody blames her for that―nobody livin', anyway.)

When Mick's finally all talked out, his voice is a little hoarse and the tiny timer at the bottom of the screen read  _1:04:29_. Still, Harley doesn't seem bothered.

"Well, hon, I got just the thing for yah," she says.

"Yeah? What you got?"

"Get off that damn ship."

Mick snorts. "Snart died for these people. I can't leave."

Harley gives him her patented Hammer-Down smile. "If that's the first reason poppin' in your head, you  _really_ gotta leave. How's it go? 'Don't burn t'keep others warm'?"

"Don't get all booky with me."

"Mickey, y'gotta understand somethin'. Lenny's death is the worst of your problems, but that little team of yours 's neck n' neck for the finish line."

"Team ain't all bad. They're heroes."

"Really? 'Cause they sound like a buncha bullies on the playground tryin' t'take your lunch money. Labels mean nothin' if y'don't back it up."

"They save people. They keep me around."

Harley shakes her head. "'Course they do. There're always good times, doll. That's how they getcha t'stay." Her expression sobers. "Take it from someone who knows, Mick. If yah keep on givin' and givin', but yah gotta tell yourself y'don't mind what y'take, you gotta get out." She nods at the screen, and Mick doesn't need to follow her eyes to know what she's looking at. "Before you got nothin' left t'give."

There's a lump of ice in Mick's throat. "They ain't―it ain't like that, Harley."

Harley smiles. It shakes a little. "I said that too. Just 'cause they don't hit yah don't mean they don't hurt yah. Didn't y'say you got yourself two pretty things in Star City?"

The ice warms. "Yeah. They're heroes though."

"But they ain't like the  _heroes_ messin' with your head."

Mick opens his mouth. Harley raises an eyebrow. He closes it.

"No," he says.

Harley grins. "Then you get your pretty ass over there. Get in touch with the Rogues, get a job goin'. In memoriam an' all. And you call me every Friday at one o'clock sharp, y'hear me? Friday!"

Mick clears his throat. "I'll think about it."

"Nope!" Harley pops the 'p'. "Doctor's orders!"

"Harley―"

Her eyes narrow. "Don't make me text Bats."

Mick's eyes widen. "I'll call you when I land."

Harley blows him a kiss. "I'm glad y'called me, doll. You got guts."

Mick thanks her and hangs up.

His knees pop as he climbs out of his hiding place. He doesn't dare take the gun with him.

"Gideon. I gotta go back to 2017."

"I'm afraid only the Captain can authorize a return trip, Mr. Rory," Gideon replies.

Mick scrubs a hand down his face. "My therapist says I gotta get off this ship. Medical emergency, Gideon. Get me to Star City, May 11th, 2017."

Telling an AI about a "medical emergency" is like telling the teacher you're gonna barf. The Waverider lurches at how fast she turns around and bolts in the other direction. Mick hears yelling from the bridge and figures he should tell 'em before they land.

"I told Gideon to take me back," he says.

"What?" cries Haircut, "But why?"

"I got my reasons. Just try not to blow yourselves up while I'm gone."

"You're not doing this to rob something, are you, Mr. Rory?" Stein asks.

Mick clenches his teeth. "I said I have my reasons."

"We can't let you go until we know why you're leaving," Sara says, "Especially if we can convince you to stay."

There they are. That little lurch in his chest, that small voice telling him about all the good times.

But now there's Harley's hammer. And nobody but nobody refuses Harley  _or_ the threat of the Bat. 'Specially together.

Still he says, "I'm takin' a break, 's all. You still want me around, gimme a beacon or somethin' and I'll call yah. I need off this tin can."

"What are you going to do?" Nate asks, "Because, y'know, you still haven't answered the question about robbing a bank."

Mick glares at him. "I might join up with the Rogues for a job or two. What, you plannin' on stoppin' us? Good fuckin' luck." He grins. "Snart's sister's at the head, and her big brother taught her  _everything_ he knows, plus some tricks she's picked up herself. But in the meantime, I'm goin' home."

The ship lands on a skyscraper glittering in the night. She cloaks before she lands, but Mick'll bet money she pinged on a certain someone's radar.

Sara's brow furrows. "Star City."

"Yep. Now I'm gonna pack up and make a couple calls, then I'll be outta your hair."

"But why Star City?" Jax asks, "I thought you were based in Central. You and Team Arrow seemed. Y'know, heated, but."

"Central belongs to Golden Glider and her crew," Mick says over his shoulder, "Still a home, but not the one I'm pickin'. Now shut up."

Mick's accumulated a lotta shit, but Gideon keeps makin' him bags until it's all put away, right down to the handkerchief Georgie gave him.

"Hey, Harley. I'm finishin' up with my packing."

"Good on yah, Hot Stuff! Ivy's gonna send yah a care package. She says you gotta open it by a window."

"Thanks. Talk Friday."

"One o'clock!"

He's about to call Felicity, but the ship opens the door for Green Arrow before he's done scrolling through his contacts. Mick peeks out the door just in time for Sara to meet Oliver.

"We picked you up on our radar," Oliver says, "Is something wrong?"

"No, just―" Sara sighs. "Mick wants out, and he's decided he's gonna stay in Star City. I don't know how he got Gideon to change course."

Oliver holds up a hand. His eyes are buggin' outta his pretty head. "Wait. Mick's  _staying_?"

"Yeah...? He said Star was his 'home,' or at least the one he was picking over Central...and that smile is creeping me out."

Mick slips back into his room. There's a stupid smile on his face that he can't get off.

"Hey, Robin Hood!" he calls, "You wanna make yourself useful?"

Sara yells after Oliver, but he's too busy running into Mick's room and kissing him like Mick's a soldier comin' home from the war. Gotta admit, it makes Mick feel real special.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming to stay?" Oliver asks.

"'Cause I wasn't 'til about half an hour ago," Mick replies, "But my shrink said I had to leave."

"You have a therapist? Who?"

Mick grins. "Harley Quinn."

Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose. "Well. At least she's certified."

"Damn right. Best there is, I'm tellin' yah. Now get my bags, hero."

 

"Whoa, those are a lot of bags―Mick?" Felicity shoots up from the couch. "Wait. Mick and bags. Bags and Mick." She gasps. "You're staying. You're staying? Is that what's happening? Please tell me that's what's happening."

"Got it in one, Glasses," Mick says.

Felicity throws up her hands. "Hallelujah! I can finally escape Oliver's cold feet!"

"Hey!" Oliver shouts from the hall.

"But really, all joking aside, I am so happy right now!" Felicity cries. She jumps so high, Mick's gotta catch her. "Seriously, no words, I have  _no_ words, and you know that never happens, okay?  _Never_!"

Mick holds her tight. "Gonna be nice n' quiet?"

"I'm so happy I won't flick your ear for that," she says, mouth runnin' a mile a minute despite what she said, "and you hate quiet anyway. Mick! This is the greatest thing  _ever_!"

She lavishes his face with kisses until he wrinkles his nose and directs her to his lips.

"Uh, guys?" Oliver says, "A little help here?"

 

Mick shoves socks in Oliver's face before they hit the hay. Oliver accepts them with good grace while Felicity squawks that he  _never_ did that for her, that's just unfair. Then he turns around and puts on a Disney Robin Hood shirt because she asks him to, which he never does for Mick.

They squish Mick between them and put on a movie.

"We are taking the day off tomorrow," Felicity says, "No buts."

Oliver opens his mouth.

"Oliver.  _No_."

Oliver shuts his mouth. Mick snorts, smirking at the subsequent glare it earns him.

Felicity points at the ceiling. "I declare tomorrow is Spoil Mick Rory Day!"

"Oo," Mick says, "I like the sound of that."

"You are finally  _staying_. And you need to be rewarded for finally getting out of there."

"Apparently his therapist Harley Quinn gave him some advice," Oliver says.

Felicity's mouth drops. "Harley Quinn? As in, Gotham City Siren Harley Quinn?"

"She's certified," Mick says.

"That is  _awesome_. And slightly terrifying. But awesome!"

Mick's got no idea what's goin' on in the movie.

 

They all doze off during the second movie, which kinda sucks 'cause Mick's got a soft spot for  _Shrek._

But oh well―they can always watch it tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Mick can take his time.

Good ol' Harley.

**Author's Note:**

> I can only hope I did at least some justice to Harley Quinn. She's a fave of mine.


End file.
